The dog comes bounding over with a smile. The kids run up to hug me, their enthusiasm just as pure.

The house is warm and comfortable. Sean keeps it clean; Jessica keeps it colorful. There is always something fragrant sauteing on the stove. On the counter are homemade pumpkin muffins, chocolate covered espresso beans, a bottle of wine.

As we cook, we make fun of her old and busted food processor. We laugh, giving it a hazing that a sentient being could not endure. She has little interest in technology; her kitchenaid mixer is the only food gadget that gets any respect. I ask her to taste my pie filling. She swipes a finger through and licks it. “More sugar,” she says. Of course she’s right.

The children pop by occasionally for hugs and samples. They’re young but these kids already know their way around a spice rack.

Friends file in. Every person brings a dish, and a story about their day. Each familiar face gives fresh warmth to my heart.

Two rules in this house: everyone gets a hug regardless of their comfort level, and they must taste everything at least once, regardless of their comfort level.

The people distract Jessica. She starts talking, gesturing, telling stories. She focuses her whole self on this, usually waving a spatula or fork instead of using it to stir. This is my time to shine: I prompt her for directions and finish up what she has started.

The craft beer and wine make everyone’s faces bright. Neighborhood kids wander through: “Did you get permission to be here? Use my phone, call your parents.” We shoo the dog out of the kitchen repeatedly, the children’s fingers must be extracted from the chocolate batter, the cat lays on the floor in the center of the chaos, unconcerned. And what a beautiful chaos it is. We laugh until we cry. “Anybody want tea?” “Is something burning?” “Come see what we drew today!”

Usually the food gets prepared and consumed at different times, but this time, every dish is ready at once. Dishes pack the table: chocolate pie, angel food cake, roast vegetables, tacos, olive cheese toast, dip, salad, bread, cajun shrimp, cheese biscuits. We stare at the spread, impressed, unsure how to begin. “Anybody religious?” Jessica quips, hoping to give this gorgeous meal a proper sendoff. I propose a toast after our family tradition: “Good health and happiness, for the rest of our lives!” People circle the kitchen island, grab random beverages so they can join in, until everyone’s glass (bottle, cup) has tapped everyone else’s.

We eat until we can’t eat anymore. We laugh until we can eat again.

We finish our food on the porch in the evening summer air. There is a cage with two hairless rats out here; they are the subject of some snuggling and much ridicule. Careful not to pet the ball python after you pet the rats.

Things are quieting down. Guests leave. Everyone gets some leftovers to take home.

Sean and the kids put on YouTube. Jessica and I linger in the kitchen, clean up a bit, talk some more, mull over the events of the day. What were the best dishes, did that thing you cooked turn out like you expected, how is homeschooling coming along? We eventually join the TV crowd and work our way underneath the warm heap of animals and children, where we comfortably enjoy the company and let the kids show us what they’re most excited about.

At some point I must reluctantly extract myself from the couch, say my goodbyes, and drive home. But the warmth lingers in my bones. Deeper, even, than that.

Your mention of hugs regardless of comfort zones brought back memories. Two decades ago, I was pretty uptight about being touched, much more about being hugged. The first hug I got here in Colorado — the girl recoiled from me in surprise — “You’re as hard and tense as a brick”.

Fast forward two, three years. My social group — mostly kids twenty years younger than me — are huggers. I’ve gotten used to their ways. Now it doesn’t even phase me in the least when Joe gives me a five minute hug!

So glad that you’ve taken such a lovely moment in time and dedicated it to the eons for all to share! It reminds me so much of my brother and sis-in-law’s home. Love this! Sending virtual hugs your way!

Elle has an interesting story you might want to hear. I met her back when my friend Don and I were now and then sampling clubs. She was a 30 something nurse by day who said the reason she worked a couple nights a week at Willies was so as to be the center of attention for once — something she never got nursing.

But to me the most interesting thing about her was that she exuded a feral sexiness that was over-powering even by club standards, yet without being at all intimidating or aloof. It was fascinating to compare her to all the other women — none of whom were out of their twenties. Just goes to show the sexiest creatures on earth are middle age women. Beautiful, even still pretty, and oh — so confident and accepting!

I’d say I want to meet her, but I’d probably fall in love with her too…
I love those intangible things about people. The It factor… what exactly IS charisma…? Movie stars and musicians have it in spades, and yet some have so much that they outshine everyone else. It’s really amazing, and a bit baffling.
I once read, and this is only obliquely related, that the strippers who were on birth control didn’t get as high of tips as the strippers who weren’t on birth control. People can sense the fertility, or lack thereof.

Oops did I hijjack the conversation? I’m not sure exactly what the blog etiquette is here, but I noticed on another blog that, when more than two people get involved in the conversation, it becomes difficult to reply to the correct comment. I tried to tweak my settings because I like everyone being able to talk to each other; let me know if it won’t let you guys reply how you want. Also please let me know if it’s bad form to barge in on conversations!

Yay! Come on over, we need help eating all this food! 😊 Or you can visit my comment section and sample the nonsense buffet any time!
Paul is hilarious, if that dialogue cracked you up you should check out his blog.

About Me

My name is Sarah. I'm 30. I live in Missouri. I like to write and draw. I like lots of other stuff too.
I'm just posting the things that fall out of my head. Hopefully it's as much fun for you as it is for me!